


If I Could Turn Back Time

by Aleigh75



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon Divergence - Battle of Hogwarts, F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Minor Character Death, Only sort of time travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 01:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleigh75/pseuds/Aleigh75
Summary: Sort of a time travel story, but it's unintentional, unconscious time travel. Hermione saves Fred because she luuuuuuves him and all that time turner use rubbed off on her. Rating is purely for violence (The Battle of Hogwarts, of course), and mention of a canonical minor character death. No smut. Also, I really suck at, and HATE coming up with titles.





	If I Could Turn Back Time

Hermione’s heart was still racing from their near escape from the Room of Hidden Things. She agreed with Ron, feeling almost sorry for Crabbe...and even almost sorry for Malfoy and Goyle, as well. Mostly, she had to admit she was a little annoyed with Harry for insisting that they save the two Slytherins. That had been way too close. More importantly though, she was  _ excited _ , having just realized there was only one horcrux remaining. “But don’t you realize? This means, if we can just get the snake-” she started to point out to her less observant friends. 

 She was cut off by the sound of loud voices, and the clash of spells from the far end of the corridor. Realizing to her horror that this could only mean that the Death Eaters were now inside the castle, she raised her wand, and watched as Fred and Percy Weasley rounded the corner, dueling furiously with two dark hooded figures. She spared a fraction of a second to wonder at the wisdom of turning their backs on Malfoy and Goyle before deciding the pair (who were slumped at the foot of the wall outside the Room of Requirement/Hidden Things) were probably out of the fight for now. Racing after Harry and Ron, she cast a leg-lock jinx at the nearest Death Eater, who was quickly bearing down on Percy, who seemed to be struggling a bit more than his younger brother.  

 Between the five of them, they quickly subdued their two opponents. Hermione wasn’t remotely surprised to recognize Pius Thicknesse as the one who had been attacking Percy. She watched in amusement as Fred began to tease his older brother for his slight display of humor during the fight. She hadn’t had much opportunity that day to observe either brother, having been too distracted when they first arrived at the castle by trying to convince Harry to stop being a stubborn git, and let their classmates help them find the last horcrux. Her gaze brushed quickly over Percy, who looked as tightly wound and obnoxious as ever, despite his disheveled appearance. Fred, on the other hand, looked as relaxed and cheerful as if he was sitting around the large kitchen table at the Burrow, or behind the counter of his and George’s shop. Hermione let her eyes linger as he expressed over-exaggerated amazement over Percy’s comments to Thicknesse. Though he was a bit thinner than he’d been when she’d last seen him back in July (who among them wasn’t?), he’d somehow become more muscular, which she supposed made sense, since he was now 20, and finally growing out of the awkward lanky phase all Weasley men seemed to go through in their late teens. Longer, in Percy’s case. She’d always found Fred attractive (George, too, she supposed), but in that moment, he was downright gorgeous. Maybe absence really did make the heart grow fonder?

 Before she could truly begin to appreciate the physical changes in the middle Weasley child, the world suddenly, and quite literally, exploded around them. She was barely aware that the exterior wall to her left had shattered violently, large chunks of stone bursting inward, knocking them all to the floor. The air was forced from her lungs as something or someone landed on her chest, and everything went dark for a moment, silent except for a loud ringing in her ears. Her lungs were burning, and it felt like she’d been stabbed in the solar plexus. She slowly became aware of someone screaming, and then a soft grunt close by. Whatever was on her chest slowly shifted off, and she struggled to take a deep breath, wincing as the movement pulled at her diaphragm.

 Prying her eyes open, she blinked slowly, trying to focus in the sudden darkness. The torches in the corridor had all either been blown out or were currently buried in the rubble that used to be the outside wall of the castle. A pale, blurry object in front of her face slowly came into focus, ultimately recognizable as Harry’s hand. His face was extremely pale, except for thick blood flowing down the left side of his face. Accepting his hand, she gingerly climbed to her feet, probing her abdomen tenderly, and was surprised to find no wound. She’d just begun looking around for the others when a heart breaking wail from behind her made her spin on her heel. “No no no! No! Fred! No!” 

 She’d barely taken in the sight of Percy and Ron kneeling over their brother’s blood covered body, half buried in a huge pile of stone rubble (and she knew instinctively that it was just Fred’s _body)_ when the pain in her upper abdomen intensified tenfold as the whole corridor began to whirl around her. Colors appeared out of nowhere, twisting and swirling together, objects seemed to brush against her skin, and the corridor suddenly grew brighter, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut. 

 “You’re joking, Perce!” Her eyes flew open at the sound of the familiar words. She stared around her in confusion at the relatively undamaged hallway, and especially the sight of Fred, laughing and teasing his brother as they wrapped up the fight with the two Death Eaters. She wasted a few seconds trying to figure out if she’d had some kind of premonition, when Fred began speaking again, “you actually _are_ joking Perce...”

 She didn’t listen to the rest of his brief statement. Glancing quickly out the nearest window, she saw the bright red streak of an approaching spell, and screamed, “Fred! Get down!” while shoving her wand toward him, and adding, “Protego!” in a desperate attempt to save him. As the wall exploded inward (again), she briefly registered that her shield spell did not seem to have much power behind it, but Fred had spun upon hearing her warning, and started to throw himself to the ground just before the spell impacted. Then, Harry slammed into her (again), and they fell in a tangle of limbs, and debris. 

 Strangely, her abdomen no longer hurt, and she scrambled to shove her best friend off her, and regain her feet. 

 “Fred? Freddie? Hey...you’re gonna be okay,” Percy’s worried, but much less frantic voice caused her to let out a sigh of relief as she turned to find the older Weasley gently holding his hand to his brother’s bleeding forehead while Fred writhed and moaned in obvious pain. “We need to get him to Madame Pomfrey!” 

 “I’ve been studying healing spells,” Hermione muttered, dropping to her knees beside them as she reached into her handbag for the healing potions and bandages she always kept at hand. “Fred? I need you to swallow this pain potion, okay?” she handed the tiny vial to Percy as she gestured for him to move his hand, and grasped her wand in preparation. “Vulnera Sanentur!” she murmured, then frowned when nothing happened. Trying again, she repeated the spell more firmly, but there was still no change to the gaping wound on Fred’s forehead. “I don’t understand...” she mumbled, confused. Shaking her wand as if this would fix it, she frantically repeated, “Vulnera Sanentur!” before letting out an exasperated breath. “Why isn’t it working?” 

 “Let me try...” Percy requested gently, raising his own wand. Having seen her attempt to perform the spell three times, he somewhat hesitantly imitated her wand movements as he recited the spell. This time, a faint white light surrounded the gash, which slowly closed over as the blood was absorbed back into Fred’s skin. 

 Hermione’s chest tightened with anxiety, but she knew they needed to focus on getting Fred to Madam Pomfrey before she tried to figure out what was wrong with her wand (or her spell casting). Despite the fact that the wound was healed, Fred’s eyes rolled back in his head as he went limp, clearly having fainted before they could give him the pain potion. “Okay, well, I think there was more wrong with him than that gash,” she muttered, gesturing for Percy and Ron to give her some room. She moved to cast a levitation spell on the unconscious wizard before hesitating, and turning to Percy. “Can you levitate him to the infirmary?” 

 “Of course,” Percy replied, shooting her an understanding smile. “Do you think he might have a spinal injury?” he asked, gazing thoughtfully at his brother before casting the spell.

 “I don’t know. He was moving his legs when he was thrashing around, I think,” Hermione replied, shrugging uncertainly. 

 “He’s unconscious anyway, so I don’t think I’ll risk hurting him further by casting a binding spell,” Percy mumbled under his breath before wordlessly raising Fred in the air, and beginning to make his way to the infirmary. 

 “Are you two alright?” Hermione asked, finally addressing Harry and Ron, who we gazing out the hole in the wall at something she’d probably rather not see. 

 “My head is killing me,” Harry admitted, holding his hand to the cut on the side of his face. “Good thing you saw that spell coming, and warned us!” 

 “Warned Fred, you mean,” Ron grumbled sulkily. At an odd look from Harry, he muttered, “She only warned _Fred_.”

 “Oh, grow up, Ron,” Harry shot back, a bit uncharacteristically snappy with his best friend. “Fred was the one standing right where the spell hit. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t started to move out of the way before it hit! You should just be glad she happened to look that way in time!”

 Ron opened and then closed his mouth a few times, finally falling quiet with a scowl. Hermione felt an intense and sudden rage in the pit of her stomach at his unreasonable and immature behavior. “I can’t believe I thought you’d changed at all. I can’t believe I ever considered giving you a chance, you stupid, self absorbed prat!” she snarled furiously before turning and stomping off down the hall after his brothers. 

 “What did I do?” she heard Ron mutter behind her as she carefully picked her way through the rubble.

 “What you always do, Ron,” Harry murmured. “You did what you always do...” 

 Hermione bit back a smile, a bit relieved that she’d gotten this reminder of how childish their friend really was before she made the mistake of getting seriously involved with him. She felt stupid now for having kissed him earlier after his comment about warning the house elves. He’d probably only said it to impress her, she realized belatedly. She’d have to thank Harry later for having snapped her out of it.

 Having caught up to Percy and Fred, Hermione focused her attention on the latter’s pale face. She shivered as she remembered the sight of his lifeless form, his face frozen in that horrible smile, and his eyes vacant. What the hell had happened? Everything had happened so quickly, that she honestly wasn’t sure. Idly rubbing her solar plexus, she wondered what had happened to the stabbing pain she had experienced during the strange vision or whatever it had been. It had honestly felt like something had been physically ripped out of her, and she’d half expected to find one or more of her internal organs hanging out of a gaping wound. 

 She wasn’t able to spend much time contemplating her odd experience, because they soon began to encounter more Death Eaters, as well as a disturbing number of acromantula. She attempted a few more spells, but was still unable to cast successfully, so she had to settle for scouting ahead, peering around corners, and quietly directing Percy as to how best to avoid the numerous battles taking place around them. 

 When they finally made their way to the infirmary, they discovered complete chaos. Ginny and Luna were guarding the doors while Dean, Cho, and Padma were helping a badly bleeding Parvati stagger inside. “What happened?!” Ginny asked breathlessly, rushing over when she saw them. “Is he...” she trailed off anxiously, gazing at Fred’s limp form.

 “He’s alive,” Hermione reassured her. “He got really banged up when a wall exploded and fell on us. Percy managed to heal his head, but then he passed out.” 

 “Well, Mum and Madam Pomfrey are inside. You’d better let them take a look,” Ginny urged, ushering them inside. 

 As soon as Molly spotted them, she ran over, running worried hands over not only Fred, but Harry as well, insisting that the latter sit down, and let her heal the cut on his face while Madam Pomfrey began casting diagnostic spells on Fred as Percy quickly explained what had happened. 

 “He has a concussion,” the healer pronounced eventually. “I think he’ll be okay, with a few more spells and potions. I’ll need to keep an eye on him though. No more fighting...” she ordered firmly, making eye contact with Molly, who nodded vigorously.

 “Of course not!” the Weasley matriarch agreed. “I’d rather none of you fight, but I know it can’t be helped,” she sighed sadly, patting Harry’s shoulder after cleaning most off the blood off his face. 

 “Something’s wrong with Hermione, as well,” Percy piped up after Madam Pomfrey had carefully cast a few spells on Fred, and poured two potions down his throat. 

 “Oh?” Madam Pomfrey asked, turning on Hermione after transferring the still unconscious wizard to an empty bed. Skimming her eyes up and down Hermione’s form, she said, “Are you injured?”

 “I just seem to be having trouble casting any spells,” Hermione admitted, glaring after Percy as he headed out the doors with Dean and Cho. 

 “When did this start?” Madam Pomfrey asked, gesturing for Hermione to follow her over to where Professor Sprout was administering a portion to Parvati. 

 “Right after the wall hit us all,” Hermione said, gesturing vaguely toward Fred. “He took the worst of it, but when I tried to heal him, I couldn’t cast the spell.”

 “Which spell? Some of them are complicated,” Madam Pomfrey inquired briskly, leaning over to examine a cut on Parvati’s side, and almost absentmindedly casting a spell to heal it. 

 “Vulnera Sanentur,” Hermione informed her. “I’ve used it several times before,” she added quickly. “I tried a few stunning spells on the way here, and those didn’t work either.” 

“What was the last spell you cast successfully before this started?” Madam Pomfrey asked, turning her full attention on Hermione, and casting a diagnostic spell over her.  

 “Protego. On Fred, right before the wall fell,” Hermione explained. “But even that wasn’t very strong, I’m afraid.” 

 “Strong enough,” Madam Pomfrey observed, sighing ruefully. “He’s alive, which is more than some can say just now.” Frowning slightly, she glanced at the shimmering results of her diagnostic spell, and said, “I don’t know how you managed it, but your magical core is almost completely drained, young lady. Have you cast a particularly complicated or draining spell today?” 

“Not particularly, no,” Hermione answered, blinking in surprise. “I mean...a lot of stunners, mostly, and apparated once or twice, but nothing fancy.” 

 “It must just be from the sheer quantity of spells you’ve cast today. I’m not all that surprised, though I must admit, I wouldn’t have expected it from you, Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey said, shrugging. 

 “Is...is it permanent?” Hermione asked, anxiously. She might have grown up as a muggle, but that didn’t mean she wanted to live without magic.

 “No, not if you take it easy and let your power reserves build back up. No more spells until a healer gives you the go ahead,” Madam Pomfrey said. 

 “But-” Hermione began to protest, wanting to point out that they were in the middle of literally the worst wizarding battle to take place in decades. She was pretty sure there’d been no fighting this fierce in the first Wizarding War, since Voldemort’s ‘death’ had ended it prematurely.

 “You’re lucky your last few attempts to cast haven’t drained it completely. Fortunately, your body knows to hang onto that last shred, to keep you from burning out completely. People have _died_ from draining their magic.” 

 “Oh...well...what am I supposed to do? I can’t just sit here...” Hermione protested weakly. 

 ‘You know Vulnera Sanentur...does that mean you’ve studied other healing techniques in addition to spells?” Madam Pomfrey asked her, gesturing for her to follow her over to a nearby cabinet. 

 “Yes!” Hermione proclaimed eagerly. “I studied both magical and muggle healing methods before the boys and I left on our trip. Just in case.” 

 “Good,” Madam Pomfrey nodded approvingly. “You can help me with bandaging, administering potions, and such. And keep an eye on that one for me...” she finished, pointing at Fred. “Do you know how to check a person’s pulse manually?” 

 “Y-yes,” Hermione nodded. “I thought you said he’s going to be okay?” 

 “Oh, _he’ll_ be fine, I was just asking in general. I expect things to get a lot worse before this is all over,” she muttered as the castle seemed to shake around them.

 Resigned to her (hopefully temporary) fate, Hermione turned to let Harry and Ron know that she wasn’t going to be able to help them any more, but discovered they’d already left. Seeing her expression, Ginny came over. “Mum told them that Madam Pomfrey probably wouldn’t let you leave if you can’t cast, so they left. Harry said he’s really sorry, and they’ll come back to check on you guys as soon as they can.”

 “Oh,” Hermione mumbled. She couldn’t really blame them, but it hurt to be left out at this stage. As Ginny went back to man her spot guarding the doors, Hermione wandered over to Molly, who was gazing down at Fred. “Is he okay?” she asked quietly after the older witch cast a quick diagnostic charm on her son. 

 “He should wake up soon. The potions Poppy gave him have almost healed the bruising on his brain. You saved his life by getting him here so quickly,” Molly said, then surprised her by pulling her into a warm embrace. “I don’t know what I would have done if we lost him!” she gasped into Hermione’s shoulder, and Hermione realized she was crying. 

 Repressing a shudder as she had another brief flash of Fred’s corpse, Hermione patted her gently on the back. “I’m just glad he’s going to be okay. When that wall exploded...” the shudder broke through, and she swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “I...I thought he died,” she whispered, too softly for Molly to hear. Squeezing her eyes shut, she thought about the horrible moment when she’d thought the wizard she’d had a secret crush on for the last three years was gone before she could find out if she’d ever have a chance with him. 

 After indulging in their mutual comforting for a few more moments, Molly was called away by Madam Pomfrey to attend to a new patient. Feeling useless, Hermione sat on the edge of Fred’s bed, gently grasping his wrist, just to reassure herself that he was warm, and alive, and had a strong and steady pulse. At her touch, he began to stir, moaning weakly, and turning his head back and forth a bit. “Shhhhhh,” Hermione murmured soothingly. “You’re okay. We’re in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey says you have a concussion, so just stay still and try to rest.” 

 “‘Mione?” Fred’s voice came out as a hoarse croak. One bloodshot brown eye popped open briefly before he snapped it closed again with a pained hiss. “Why’s it so bloody bright in here?” 

 Hermione gazed around her at the dimly lit room, and frowned. “It’s...not bright in here,” she answered. “I take it your head still hurts?” Receiving a slight nod as answer, she said, “Hang on, Fred. I’m going to go get Madam Pomfrey, okay?” before patting him on the arm, and rising to look for the healer. 

 “Is he awake?” Molly asked eagerly, rushing over from the far side of the room. “Oh Fred!” 

 “Mum...too loud!” Fred groaned as his mother all but smothered him in a tight embrace. 

 Hermione smiled at their reunion before hurrying to get Madam Pomfrey. “Fred’s awake, I think he’s got a pretty bad headache,” she informed her quietly. “He said it’s too bright in here.”

 “Shocking,” Madam Pomfrey muttered sarcastically. “You can give him one of the dark purple pain potions from that cupboard. It’s made especially for concussions. I see a lot of those around here,” she instructed, pointing at the cabinet in question. “After that, if you could help me apply burn salve to Miss Bones...”

 Hermione glanced over, and winced at the sight of Susan Bones, whose face and neck were covered in painful looking blisters. “Okay!” she squeaked, rushing to grab the correct potion, and quickly returning to Fred’s side. “Here! For his headache!” she blurted, shoving it into Molly’s hand before hurrying to Susan’s bed, where Madam Pomfrey had begun liberally applying a thick, greenish/yellowish paste that smelled strongly of aloe and eucalyptus. 

 For the next hour, Hermione was kept too busy assisting with the steady influx of patients to worry much about either Fred, or her own inability to use magic. Suddenly, everyone in the room froze as Voldemort’s voice rang through the castle.  “You have fought valiantly...” Hermione barely registered the rest of the dark wizard’s threat, focusing only on the fact that Harry would most certainly turn himself over to save everyone. A quick glance at Madam Pomfrey and Molly confirmed that both women were keeping a close eye on her, so she had no hope of sneaking out to find her friend. Not that there was much she could do to help even if she did. 

 When Voldemort finally finished speaking, Madam Pomfrey put her hands on her hips, and ordered, “Alright then, while we’ve got a bit of a break from the fighting, I think we’d best search the grounds for anyone injured who hasn’t been able to make it back here. Any of you who are of able body, please follow me.”

 “Me, too?” Hermione asked eagerly. Maybe she would be able to escape after all...

 “You won’t be able to levitate anyone...” Madam Pomfrey murmured skeptically. 

 “But _I_ can. I’ll stick with her. My headache is gone. Please?” Hermione felt warmth against her back as Fred came up behind her. “C’mon, between us, we’re a fully capable wizard, right?” 

 Madam Pomfrey frowned thoughtfully, cast a quick diagnostic spell on Fred, then nodded. “Only if you promise to stick together, and return here before the fighting starts back up. Just search for the injured, do whatever you can for them in the field, and bring the ones on our side to the Great Hall...we’re getting a bit too full in here.”

 “What about the ones on other side?” Hermione asked reluctantly. 

 “They can go bugger themselves, can’t they?” Madam Pomfrey muttered, eliciting a bark of  laughter from Fred. Hermione also giggled slightly despite herself. 

 “Yes, Ma’am,” Fred chirped, saluting playfully before grabbing Hermione’s hand. “You heard the lady, let’s go, ‘Mione!”

 “Ugh, would you stop calling me that?” Hermione muttered, grabbing her handbag, and tossing a few more potions and rolls of bandages inside before letting him lead her into the corridor. “Is your headache really gone?” she asked quietly once they were out of Madam Pomfrey’s hearing. 

 “Close enough,” he murmured, grinning wryly, and rubbing his forehead. A strange expression crossed his face for a moment, and he looked like he was going to say something, but then he just shook his head slightly, and pulled her toward the Entrance Hall. “Thank you,” she heard him murmur as they passed through the shattered front doors. 

 “I...I didn’t really do much. I tried to shield you, but it didn’t work,” she replied humbly. 

 “I think there was more to it than that, and you know it,” he cast her a knowing look over his shoulder, then turned toward the sound of someone whimpering in the bushes nearby. 

 Hermione swallowed hard, her heart pounding. Had he somehow experienced the same horrible vision she had? She didn’t have a chance to ask right then, because they had found Dennis Creevey kneeling beside the small, broken body of his brother Colin. “Gods, what are they even doing here?” she mumbled under her breath as she gently pulled the distraught young boy away from his older sibling. He had a slash on his cheek, but didn’t appear to be otherwise injured. “Fred, can you cast Vulnera Sanentur on him?” she asked quietly.

 “Show me the wand motions?” Fred requested, his voice flat. After she had done so, he quickly healed the younger boy’s cut, then soberly picked up the elder brother’s corpse, which was so light, he didn’t even need to use a levitation spell. “We should bring him back to the Great Hall. They’ll be figuring out what to do with the...” he trailed off, sadly shaking his head, and Hermione nodded understandingly. She kept her arm around Dennis’ shoulders, and slowly led him inside, turning him over to Professor McGonagall, who looked as though she was fighting back tears. 

 When he returned to her side, Fred surprised her by weaving his fingers with hers as they began to leave the Great Hall. She glanced down at their hands, almost needing visual confirmation of the more intimate grip he had taken on her hand. When she looked up at his face, he was smiling a bit nervously at her. “I...we should talk when this is all over, luv. There’s something I need to tell you.” 

 Hermione was fairly sure she might be at risk of a very premature heart attack, given how many times hers had begun racing that day. As much as the more optimistic part of her brain wanted to demand he tell her whatever it was right now, the more practical (and also the less self-confident) parts of her brain insisted now was not the time. “Okay,” she murmured, smiling and ducking her head, feeling suddenly shy.

 Fred squeezed her hand, chuckling softly, and asked, “So, I guess we should go look for more people?”

 “Yeah,” Hermione agreed, letting him lead her back outside. They walked around the grounds a bit, but only found one injured witch...a sixth year Hufflepuff whose name Hermione couldn’t recall. After fashioning a makeshift sling out of bandages for the girl’s broken arm, they helped her get to the Great Hall. 

 Then, Fred ducked closer and whispered, “The hour is half up, do you want to go find them?” 

 Hermione bit her lip, glanced guiltily at Madam Pomfrey, then nodded. They’d barely started for the Entrance Hall when Ron ran over calling their names. “Shhhh!” Fred shushed his brother. “We’re trying to get away from Mum and Pomfrey!”

 Ron winced, and lowered his voice as he asked, “Have you seen Harry?” 

 “Haven’t _you_?!” Hermione demanded angrily. “You’re supposed to be with him!” 

 “We got separated after Snape died,” he said defensively. “He just kind of took off when we got back here. I was asking Mum if she’d seen Dad or George lately.” 

 “Wait...what?” Hermione spluttered. “Snape is dead?!” 

 “Are Dad and George missing?!” Fred demanded frantically.

 “Yes,” Ron answered calmly, but shook his head. 

 “Yes to which question?!” Fred practically screeched. 

 “Oh...no...I meant...Snape died. Dad and George are taking a group of younger kids from the Hogs Head back to Diagon Alley. I guess it was getting a bit crowded, and there are Death Eaters lurking around the village so they thought they would be safer there,” Ron explained sheepishly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as he spotted something over Hermione’s shoulder. “Charlie! Ginny!”

 When they turned to look, Charlie was marching toward them, dragging Ginny by the arm. “Thank Merlin! Can you guys keep her from getting herself killed? I need to go help Bill and Percy. They’re trying to shore up one of the damaged walls before the fighting starts back up.”

 “It’s not going to start back up!” Ginny shrieked, stomping her foot. “Harry’s going to sacrifice himself. You know he is! I have to stop him!” 

 “Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed. “We’re going to stop him, okay? But you need to calm down, or your mum and Madam Pomfrey are going to stop us,” she whispered urgently, not wanting Charlie to hear. “We’ve got her, Charlie,” she told him, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. 

 Despite having grown up with several devious younger siblings, Charlie was apparently too frazzled to really consider whether he should trust her word, because he smiled, muttered a quick “Thanks!” and took off through the front doors. 

 “So....what are we going to do?” Ron asked after Charlie was out of earshot. 

 “Where do you think Harry might be right now?” Fred asked, looking back and forth between Ron and Hermione. 

 Hermione turned expectantly to Ron, not sure, since she didn’t know what had happened since they’d left her in the infirmary. “Well...I think Snape might have given him some memories?” Ron said uncertainly. “Before he died, I mean.” 

 “Duh,” Ginny muttered, which made Fred snicker. 

 Ignoring them, Hermione said, “I’m pretty sure there’s a pensieve in the Headmaster’s office. Do you think Harry would go look at the memories right now?” 

 Everyone looked thoughtful for a moment, then Ginny said, “Well, we don’t really have anything else to go on. He doesn’t need to be in the forest for another 25 minutes...” 

 “Maybe we should split up? Two of us can stay here and keep an eye out for him, and two of us can go check Dumbledore’s office?” Fred suggested.

 No one bothered to correct him about the current Headmaster of the school, but Ron and Ginny volunteered to run up to the Headmaster’s office to look for Harry. After they’d left, Hermione noticed that Fred was looking a bit pale. “Are you alright?” 

 “Yeah. My head just hurts a bit,” he said, smiling reassuringly at her. Grasping her hand again, he led her over to stand in the doorway of the Great Hall, so they could keep a better eye out in case Harry came by. While they waited, he leaned against the door frame, and tugged gently on her hand until she was practically leaning on him. “You look exhausted,” he murmured, rubbing the back of her hand lightly with his thumb, sending shivers up her arm. “When’s the last time you slept?”

 “Erm...” Hermione frowned, realizing she wasn’t entirely sure what day it was. Had she and the boys robbed Gringotts just the day before? It seemed like years ago... “I have no idea,” she admitted finally. 

 “When this is over, we’re going back to the Burrow, and sleeping for a week,” Fred told her in a tone that brooked no argument. 

 “Sounds heavenly,” Hermione mumbled tiredly, realizing too late how her response might have been construed. Fred obviously noticed her slip too, because he smirked slightly, and squeezed her hand, but he didn’t say anything. Hermione chewed her lip nervously for a moment, then slowly leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder, and closing her eyes.

 “He’s not up there!” Ron’s sudden shout startled her out of a slight doze. Maybe more than slight, since she had no idea how much time had passed, and she noticed a tiny damp spot on Fred’s sleeve where she may or may not have been drooling. 

 “Shite,” Fred muttered, rubbing his hand down over his face. “What do we do now?” 

 Just then, Neville came into the Entrance Hall from outside. “Guys, I think Harry’s going to turn himself in,” he said, as soon as he spotted them. 

 “You saw him?” Hermione asked.

 “Where is he?!” Ginny demanded simultaneously, already trying to head for the doors. 

 Neville smoothly stepped in front of her, and blocked her way, allowing Ron and Fred to grab an arm each and pull her back. “You can’t just run after him. He’s probably with You-Know-Who by now. We need to make a plan!” he barked, sounding more confident than Hermione had ever heard him. “Harry said we need to kill the snake if we get a chance. Does that make sense to you guys?”

 “Right,” Ron said, sighing heavily. “It does, but how are we going to kill it? We don’t have Gryffindor’s sword anymore, and I think we dropped the basilisk fangs in the Room of Hidden Things, unless ‘Mione still has one?” He glanced at her questioningly, and sighed when she shook her head. 

 “Can’t we just hack it up with one of those swords the suits of armor are running around with. Or  hit it with a curse?” Fred asked. He, Neville and Ginny, not knowing anything about horcruxes or that Nagini was one, looked a bit confused by Ron’s question. 

 “Voldemort has linked his life to hers somehow, so she’s under some pretty intense protection spells. She can only be killed in certain ways,” Hermione explained, keeping it slightly vague, but mostly for ease of explanation rather than feeling any particular need for secrecy at that point. “Basilisk venom, which is why Gryffindor’s sword would work, and the fangs, obviously. Apparently Fiendfyre will also work, but I don’t think any of us know how to control it?” she glanced at Fred hopefully, since he seemed the most likely candidate, but he shook his head. 

 “Ugh!” Ron grunted, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes irritably. “Why would Harry turn himself in? This is crazy! We should just retreat and try again another day!”

 Hermione bit her lip, having a niggling suspicion that Harry might have learned something horrible from Snape’s memories. She’d had an odd feeling for a while that Harry himself might contain part of Voldemort’s soul, since that would explain a lot of things about the connection the two seemed to share, and Harry’s ability to speak parseltongue, among other things. He might not be an actual Horcrux, but close enough. She didn’t want to say so for fear of stressing Ginny even further when it might not even be true. 

 They were quietly discussing possible methods for killing the snake, and had just decided to ask Professor Flitwick if he could control Fiendfyre when Voldemort’s voice startled them all, announcing. “Harry Potter is dead.” 

 The world swam in front of Hermione as she gasped, “No!” Everything went dark for a moment, and she was only dimly aware of nearby voices, and a strong, warm pair of hands holding her upright.

 “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. I’ll keep you safe,” a low voice was muttering in her ear. “I won’t let them anywhere near you!” 

 Another voice, this one, female, was shrieking as if in agony, but Hermione was too dizzy to understand her words, if she was even saying anything. It felt like someone was half-dragging, half-carrying her further away from the girl who was screaming, but Hermione couldn’t seem to open her eyes to see what was going on. 

 “Bill...you’ve got to help me get her out of here!” the first voice said again, followed by a deep rumbling reply, and then more movement. “‘Mione? ‘Mi? Can you hear me? Why isn’t she waking up?!” 

 A new female voice replied in soft, lilting tones, but again, Hermione couldn’t understand her. She felt a cool hand against her forehead, and the woman spoke again, but Hermione had to struggle to focus. 

 There was a dull roar of voices in the distance, then happy shouts followed by a series of crashes and bangs, more (less happy) shouts and screams. The noise dwindled down to just a few women’s voices, a bang, an angry scream, and then some low male voices. Hermione’s head finally seemed to clear a bit just as there was one final loud crack, a momentary pause, and a sudden uproar of screaming voices. 

 “Holy shit, he did it!” A loud exclamation right near her ear finally prompted Hermione to try again to open her eyes, revealing Bill looking happier than she’d have ever guessed he was capable of as he spun Fleur around in a circle. The french witch was beaming from ear to ear, with tears streaming down her cheeks as she peppered kisses all over her husband’s face. Confusingly, they seemed to be inside some sort of small storage room, barely larger than a broom closet, though the partially open door revealed a huge mass of bodies, all similarly celebrating...something.

 “Whaaa?” she groaned, rubbing her head. 

 “Hermione?!” Fred’s smiling face suddenly came into view, and she realized he was holding her tightly...the only thing keeping her upright. “Are you okay? You scared me half to death!”

 “What happened?” she mumbled, trying to get a better view of whatever was going on outside their tiny refuge. 

 “It’s over! Harry just killed Voldemort!” Bill exclaimed happily.

 “But...Nagini...did anyone kill Nagini?” Hermione asked anxiously.

 “Neville Longbottom,” Fleur answered cheerfully. Hermione was mildly surprised the beautiful foreign witch even knew Neville’s name, but the news filled her with joy when she realized the war was truly _over_. 

 “It’s over...” she repeated breathlessly. Looking around, she asked, “Why are we in a closet?” 

 Bill and Fleur chuckled, and grinned at Fred, who blushed slightly. “I’ll let Freddie try to explain that one.” Bill replied, shrugging slightly as he ushered his wife out into what Hermione realized was the Great Hall. She hadn’t even known there was a storage room connected to the enormous room, but supposed it made sense. 

 “When Voldemort announced that Harry was dead, you fainted, ‘Mi,” Fred began to explain softly. He’d released his tight hold around her waist, but still had his hands on her upper arms, rubbing softly up and down, as if he was unaware he was doing so. “It wasn’t just that, though. I swear, you...you got blurry for a moment, and then just went limp. I’ve been trying to wake you up for like 15 minutes now, and I had to move us in here when the fighting broke out again. The giants forced everyone back inside the castle. I ran into Bill and Fleur in all the chaos, and they were trying to help me wake you, but...well...it’s over!” he ended cheerfully, giving a careless shrug. “Are you okay? I think we should have Pomfrey look you over...”

 “I got blurry?” Hermione repeated, utterly confused. “What does that even mean?” 

 “You...went out of focus for a moment,” Fred said. “I don’t know how else to describe it. How are you feeling?”

 “Really, really tired,” Hermione answered after thinking a moment. “Kind of sore all over. So...about the same as I was before.” She flashed him quick, sheepish grin. “How about you? How’s your head?” 

 “It feels like a wall fell on it,” he replied ruefully, rubbing his forehead. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind a bit of a lie down.” 

 “Right. Of course,” Hermione pulled away from him reluctantly, but took his hand, and led him out of the storage room. “Let’s get Madam Pomfrey to check us over, and then maybe we can get out of here, and sleep for a year or two?” 

 “Sounds like a plan,” Fred mumbled. Now that the adrenaline rush he’d probably been experiencing while the battle was still ongoing was over, Hermione could see that he was fading fast. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the pain portion he’d taken earlier had probably worn off as well. 

 The Great Hall was a madhouse, filled with cheering and screaming, and people jumping up and down, hugging each other. It didn’t take long for her to spot a Weasley. Percy was locked in a tight embrace with a black haired witch that Hermione didn’t recognize. Undeterred by their possibly intimate moment, she marched over and tapped the wizard on the shoulder. “Sorry, Percy, do you know where Madam Pomfrey or your mum might be?” 

 He released the unfamiliar witch, looked over at them, and smiled happily. “Fred! You’re okay!” he exclaimed, hugging his brother warmly. “You look bloody awful though. You should be lying down,” he scolded gently. 

 “I’m working on it,” Fred mumbled, dodging away from his older brother. “Have you seen mum?”

 “She’s over there, squeezing Ginny to death,” Percy pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. 

 Looking in the direction he’d indicated, Hermione saw two heads of orange hair...one short and curly, and the other long and straight...bouncing up and down together close to the raised platform at the far end of the Hall. “Thanks, Percy!” she chirped, beginning to drag Fred through the massive throng of people. She was halfway across the room when someone slammed into her from the side. She was about to scold the person, when she recognized the messy black hair suddenly blocking her vision. “Harry!” she squealed delightedly, throwing her arms around him, even though she hadn’t released Fred’s hand. Unphased by this, the older wizard just moved to stand on the other side of Harry, and embraced them both.

 “Good job, mate! That was incredible!” he congratulated, thumping Harry on the back with his free hand. 

 Harry didn’t speak, and just burrowed his face into Hermione’s hair, letting out a deep sigh that she barely heard as he slumped slightly. “I think we should get him out of here,” Hermione told Fred in a low voice, recognizing that her best friend had pushed himself well past his limits, and was likely to crash at any moment, no matter how overjoyed he probably was at finally being free of the dark wizard’s ire. 

 “We can send Mum and Dad an owl from the Burrow,” Fred murmured. Wrapping his free arm around Harry’s shoulders, he began to head out of the room. 

 People kept getting in their way, trying to talk to Harry, so Hermione quickly patted him down, and snagged his invisibility cloak from where he’d stuffed it inside his jacket, then threw it over the three of them. “Let’s go!” she urged Fred, who was grinning at her with amusement. 

 They finally reached the main gates, and the edge of the anti-apparition wards, which were remarkably still in effect. “I can’t do it. Are you okay apparate us?” she asked Fred anxiously. 

 “I...I don’t know if I can take all three of us,” he admitted, frowning slightly. “I feel like shite.” 

 Hermione had begun chewing her lip, trying to decide how best to proceed, when they heard crunching footsteps behind them, and George emerged from the gate. “I’ll take him, Forge. You two go ahead,” he made a shooing motion at his twin, and gently took Harry by the arm. 

“Thanks, Gred,” Fred murmured, looking relieved. Wrapping his arm around Hermione, he turned on his heel, and Hermione felt the familiar, slightly nauseating sensation of side-along apparation before they appeared at the bottom of the lane leading up to the Burrow, followed immediately by the ‘pop’ as George and Harry appeared beside them. The sudden silence was almost deafening. 

 “Thanks,” Harry finally spoke, smiling weakly at George. Turning to Fred and Hermione, he mumbled. “Sorry. I’ve gotta sleep...” and wandered off toward the house, dragging the invisibility cloak on the ground behind him. 

 “Um...I’m gonna go make sure he makes it up to Ronnikins’ room, before the rest of the horde arrives,” George said. Giving Fred a quick hug, he whispered something Hermione couldn’t hear, waved, and took off after Harry. 

 “Are you going back to the flat with him?” Hermione asked Fred quietly as they also began to make their way slowly up the lane.  

 “I, uh...don’t know,” he said, glancing sideways at her. “I think Mum would flip if I try to leave tonight. She’d probably just hunt us down and make us come back, anyway. I think I’m just gonna take a kip up in my old room for now.” 

 “Mmmm,” Hermione moaned at the thought of sleep, which made Fred chuckle quietly, and elbow her gently in the side. 

 “You want to crash in Ginny’s room? I have a feeling Harry might end up in there eventually...” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Bill and Fleur are probably going back to Shell Cottage, but Percy and Charlie are most likely going to be here tonight.” 

 “I don’t even care. I just want to sleep,” Hermione groaned. 

 Fred chuckled again, and slung his arm over her shoulders. “Come on, luv,” he instructed, guiding her inside and up the twisting stairs. Hermione barely registered which room they were in (Bill’s) before she found herself being gently pushed down on the large, comfy bed, and felt Fred pulling off her trainers and lifting her feet onto the mattress. “See you in the morning, ‘Mione,” Fred whispered before kissing her lightly on the forehead. She was asleep before he even made it out of the room. 

  _A heavy weight pressed down on her chest, and Hermione moaned weakly as her eyes fluttered open. It didn’t make much difference, since everything was dark except for the flickering of flames beyond a gaping hole in the stone wall to her right. A pale hand suddenly appeared in her vision, and she looked up to see Harry standing over her, waiting to help her up._

  _She froze, her heart sinking. This was familiar..._

  _“No no no! No, Fred! No!” Percy’s voice behind her pulled an involuntary sob from her chest, but she let Harry pull her to her feet even as she turned and stared at the horrible sight before her. Fred Weasley lay dead, his face frozen in a ghastly smilie, his vacant eyes turned blankly to the shattered ceiling above him. A large pile of shattered stone and mortar covered him from the chest downward, and she knew from the pool of blood oozing out from beneath the rubble that there was no way he could have survived the blast._

  _“No!” she screamed, covering her face in horror and turning to bury her face against Harry’s chest. She waited expectantly for...something...but nothing happened until they were jarred into action by the sudden appearance of several acromantula, which crawled in through the hole in the wall._

  _As Harry led her away, Hermione dragged her feet, staring at Fred’s broken body. “No! Fred! No!” she sobbed, struggling against her friend’s hold._

 “Hermione! Wake up! I’m here! It’s okay!  I’m here!” Fred’s voice suddenly rose over her own screams, shocking her to awareness. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing the elder Weasley twin, who was leaning over her, gently shaking her by the shoulders. Seeing that she was awake, he let out a soft sigh, and sat back slightly. “Hi,” he murmured, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Bad one?”

 “Fred!” she gulped back a sob, sitting up, and flinging her arms around his neck. “Oh god, you were dead! You were dead!” 

 He stiffened for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her, gently rubbing her back. “I know,” he whispered against her hair. “I don’t know how...but I know you saved me.” 

 Hermione sniffled, and drew back a bit, looking him in the eyes. “No one else seems to have noticed. I don’t know what happened. I thought I imagined it.” 

 Fred shook his head slightly. “No. I remember. There was an explosion....” he trailed off, swallowing hard. “And then I was standing in that hallway, and when I looked down, I saw...myself lying there...dead. Percy was screaming, and then you...you went all blurry, and out of focus, like when Voldemort said Harry was dead. Everything got really bright, and then I woke up in the infirmary, with you leaning over me.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I think you...you undid it somehow. Turned back time?” 

Hermione blinked. “But I don’t know how to do anything like that. I mean...the only way I know of manipulating time is to use a time turner, but I don’t have one anymore. I gave it back to Professor McGonagall at the end of third year. And even then, it doesn’t work quite like that...there would have been two of me...” 

 Fred shrugged uncertainly, and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Well, whatever you did, or how, thank you,” he whispered. 

 Blushing at his closeness, Hermione looked down, but that just brought to her attention that he was wearing sleep pants, and wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Hey...what’re you doing up here, anyway? Was I being that loud?” 

 “Oh...no...uh, I was wrong...Bill brought Fleur here after all. I didn’t want them to wake you, so I let them take George’s and my old room. George is on the couch downstairs, and I came up here. I swear, I didn’t do anything creepy...I even put pillows between us...see?” he gestured beside them, and she giggled at the sight of a row of pillows down the middle of the bed. 

 “That’s sweet,” she told him, barely resisting the urge to reach up and caress his cheek. “You didn’t have to, though. I trust you.” 

 He hesitated a moment, then grinned sheepishly and said, “What if I didn’t trust _myself_? My sleeping self, anyway. I seem to be able to control myself around you when I’m awake,” he winked teasingly, then added, so softly that she could barely make out his words, “So far.”

 Hermione stared at him, wide eyed. “Huh?” she asked, dazedly. He couldn’t be saying what she thought he was saying.

 “Are you with Ron?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere. 

 “What?” Thrown by his seemingly abrupt change of topic, Hermione finally found her tongue. “What does he have to do with anything?”

 “Just answer the question, please?” Fred requested, twisting his fingers together absentmindedly.

 Raising an eyebrow when she realized that he was actually _nervous_ , she smiled slightly, and said, “No. I mean, I thought about it, but I realized he’s still as self-centered and immature as ever. I can’t see myself ever having a real future with him.”

 “This is going to sound horrible, since he’s my brother, but he’s not bright enough for you, Hermione,” Fred said. “Or... I should say, he’s bloody brilliant at _some_ things, but he’s brilliant at the wrong things to really be compatible with you.” 

 “Exactly,” Hermione smiled guiltily, but nodded. “I do love him, but only as a friend.” 

 Fred nodded, waited a moment, then mumbled something she couldn’t quite make out.

 “What was that?” Hermione asked, leaning closer.

 He took a deep breath, then asked, “Do you only see _me_ as a friend?”

 Hermione inhaled sharply, feeling her cheeks flood with heat. “Uh, well...”  He waited patiently, though he looked a bit anxious. “Are you asking how I see our relationship now...” biting her lip, she continued hurriedly. “Or how I’d _like_ it to be?” Her heart was pounding, wondering if she’d misread him, but he didn’t leave her in suspense long.

 “Would the answers be different?” he asked, the right side of his mouth pulling back in a slight smirk.

 “What do _you_ think?” Hermione asked, exasperated. 

 “I think I’d like to kiss you right now,” he breathed, his eyes locked on hers. 

 Hermione’s face broke into a huge grin despite herself, but she couldn’t really feel embarrassed about it because Fred’s had too, and then he was leaning even closer, resting his weight on one hand as he lightly pressed his lips to hers. They both moaned softly when their lips made contact, and mutually moved to deepen the kiss. Hermione tilted her head slightly further to the right, and Fred sighed happily, sliding his hand up her arm to the back of her neck, holding her closer as he lightly sucked on her lower lip.

 Hermione hadn’t had a whole lot of experience as far as kissing was concerned, but she decided fairly quickly that Fred would probably stand up well in comparison even if she’d kissed more than two other wizards. Despite their age difference (or perhaps because of it) Viktor had been more reserved than she had, acting as if she might break, his lips firm and unmoving. The few kisses she’d shared with Ron had been rather like the time her aunt’s cocker spaniel had given her a thorough tongue bath. That realization made her giggle, and Fred broke the kiss, pulling back to look at her. “It’s not generally a good sign if a girl laughs when you kiss her,” he observed wryly, though he had pressed his forehead to hers, and was rubbing their noses together playfully, clearly not bothered by her laughter.

 “You really don’t want to know,” Hermione snickered. “But it wasn’t _you_ I was laughing at, I promise!”

 “Good, because for once, I wasn’t trying to be funny,” he whispered before kissing her again. 

Taking her cue from him, Hermione reached up to run her hand into the fine hairs at the back of his head, gently scratching his scalp as she licked his lower lip before gently sucking on it. Fred groaned in response, and pulled her closer, swiping his tongue across the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth slightly, and cautiously slid her tongue against his, drawing another groan from each of them. Hermione quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, while he moved his hands to her hips, and lifted her to sit across his lap, holding her there as they continued to kiss each other passionately. 

 She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when they were forced to pull apart in order to catch their breath.  Foreheads pressed together again, they breathed slowly, Hermione rubbing small circles against Fred’s shoulder blades, while he ran one hand up and down her back while the other absently played with one of her curls. Sighing contentedly, Hermione leaned further into him, and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes before letting out a quiet yawn. Fred chuckled softly, and rubbed her back a bit more vigorously for a moment before yawning himself. “We should probably get some sleep, I guess,” he mumbled reluctantly, his breath tickling the side of her neck.

 “I suppose,” Hermione smiled when he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, buried his face in her shoulder, and whined jokingly. “You can stay here,” she whispered, biting her lip. “We can even get rid of the wall,” she added, gesturing at the pillows.

 “Okay,” he whispered back, even though there was no reason for either of them to be whispering. Loosening his grip on her, he swept the pillows off the bed with a quick sweep of his arm, then scooted across to the far side of the bed, laid down, and pulled her down into his arms.

 Hermione happily snuggled against his side, throwing her arm across his torso. She knew they needed to talk about _everything_ , not just the kisses they’d just shared, but she was still completely exhausted in spite of the few hours of sleep her nightmare had interrupted. “Talk tomorrow?” she mumbled against his shoulder.

 “Mmhmm,” Fred sounded just as tired as she felt, but he gave her an affectionate squeeze, and kissed her forehead before relaxing and going still. 

 Feeling happier (and safer) than she had in longer than she could remember, It didn’t take long for Hermione to drift back to sleep, though this time her dreams were far more pleasant.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be long and rambling, but I wanted to try to wrap up some things I know I didn't explain in the story. I actually originally intended for this to go a lot more in depth into how she actually saved him, with a Department of Mysteries investigation eventually determining that all of Hermione's time turner use somehow imbued her with, say, the essense of time manipulation magic. Since she'd been harboring feelings for Fred for a while (in my head, anyway), when she saw him dead, it unconsciously triggered that magic, and she managed to actually turn back time, rather than just traveling back in time herself (as would happen with a time turner...thus there being no double of her, and her "waking up" back where she "started" just before the explosion). My sappy romantic side decided that Fred is her soulmate, so she not only felt it when he died, but also dragged him along for the ride somehow.
> 
> Anyway, I realized that continuing the story just to explain all of that would just be exposition after the real point of the story was over, so...this is me telling you that is what happened. The reason she couldn't cast 'Protego' on him is because, technically, that was *after* she had used up most of her magic to turn back time, thus why he still ended up getting injured. She did try (not intentionally/consciously) to do it all again when Voldemort announced Harry was dead, but since her magical battery was running on empty at that point, she just passed out. (Mostly because I didn't feel like quoting the last battle scene from the book and movie, so assume it happened that way minus Hermione's involvement). ;) Obviously, almost none of this story is remotely canon, but I have NEVER liked Hermione and Ron as a couple, and I hate that Fred died, so I had to fix it.
> 
> Also, my stories are usually much smuttier, and I wanted to try not to be with this on, so I ended it here, but I might write a second, smutty part someday if I can no longer resist. ;)
> 
> Also, I obviously don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters, and am making no profit from writing this.


End file.
